


Spark My Desire

by BawdyBean, bookscorpion



Series: The World of Us [6]
Category: Shadowrun, Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, Electrical Play, Electrosex, M/M, Rope Bondage, Shibari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:35:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24165232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BawdyBean/pseuds/BawdyBean, https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookscorpion/pseuds/bookscorpion
Summary: “I got you a gift.” Rhys comes into the living room with two boxes, one stacked on top of the other held together neatly by criss-crossing ribbon tied into a delicate bow at the top.Eskel gets a gift, and immediately goes to play with it.
Relationships: Eskel (The Witcher)/Rhys Morgan
Series: The World of Us [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612003
Comments: 19
Kudos: 13
Collections: Discord Community Archive





	Spark My Desire

“I got you a gift.” Rhys comes into the living room with two boxes, one stacked on top of the other held together neatly by criss-crossing ribbon tied into a delicate bow at the top.

Eskel sits up immediately, setting his beer bottle on the coffee table and scooting back into the arm of the couch to make room for Rhys. “Looks like more than one to me.” He can’t help but smile though. Rhys has gotten something for him. Only for him, just because. There is no reason that Eskel can think of— they aren’t celebrating anything.

The other two have gone off to Exmoor, leaving Eskel and Rhys to themselves in the apartment, fueling Eskel’s belief that this is a special present just between them. Otherwise Rhys would have given it to him earlier, when everyone could have seen his reaction.

Rhys cocks his head to the side and lets a fang slip through into his own smile. “Let’s say they go together, shall we?” Setting the boxes in Eskel’s lap Rhys leans carefully over them, steals a kiss and then seats himself next to Eskel watching with vivid bright eyes. “Well. Go on, you can open it.”

The boxes are beautiful. Dark maroon like a smashed berry or spilled wine, lids the color of fresh cream top each one, and a similarly maroon ribbon edged in black wraps around them holding them tight. Almost too beautiful to disturb. But the enthusiasm in Rhys’ voice spurs Eskel on. 

Carefully he pulls the ends of the ribbon, and it falls to the sides. Lifting the first lid Eskel spies a small glass bottle, resting gently in a bed of black tissue paper. Its yellow contents stand out starkly, but otherwise it looks unremarkable. Like any potion he might take on the path. A utilitarian bottle. When Eskel picks it up his medallion hums softly under his shirt and he quirks an eyebrow at Rhys.

“Don’t drink it yet. Open the next box.” Rhys’ smile is growing by the moment, both fangs showing now, his eyes glittering with pleasure. 

The excitement rubs off on Eskel, who sets the sunshine bright potion back into its bed and moves that box to the table for safekeeping next to his beer. Below it is a much larger box, a good deal heavier too. As soon as Eskel tips the lid off he is as giddy as Rhys.

Inside are coils upon coils of rope. Red and black, perfectly twisted into hanks. Eskel dips his hands into the box lifting them out. There are four all together, two of each color, smelling faintly of chemical; the ropes are shorter than what he would normally use to tie a harness with but for hands and feet they are perfect. Hells, they are perfect anyway because they are from Rhys.

Eskel moves the box to the floor and hugs the rope to his chest with one arm while leaning forward. Hand darting out he cradles the back of Rhys’ neck and breathes out. “I love you.” The words brush Rhys lips as Eskel kisses him. It’s slow and intimate. Eskel puts everything he feels about being cared about enough to warrant such a gift into the way his lips move over Rhys’.

Eventually he just runs out of air. Stops to breathe and then nibbles up Rhys’ jawline. “Thank you.” Eskel’s head rests against Rhys’ for a minute before he relaxes back into the arm of the couch. “I know what these are for.” The ropes are still held firmly to Eskel’s chest by his arm, a cherished thing already. “But what’s with the magic bottle?”

***

Rhys is pleased with how happy Eskel already is with his gift, and they haven't even started. He holds out a hand. "Let me show you. Hand me one of the ropes please?"

Getting off the couch, Rhys lays the rope out on the ground in a circle so the ends are next to each other, without touching. He waves for Eskel to join him, kneel next to him on the floor.

"The bottle is a spell for you. It creates a little bit of electricity, and you can use it on these ropes. Normally, you'd use a device with them and I have that, but I thought you'd enjoy doing this with a spell." Concentrating, Rhys calls the spell up in his own mind and touches the rope.

"The idea is for you to drink the potion, tie me up with these ropes and then touch the ropes. With how I made the potion, you can do anything from just a mild tingle to a pretty painful shock. No matter where you touch, it will go through the whole rope. And where it's not pressed directly against the skin, you'll even get a spark. Like so." Nodding at Eskel to try it out, showing him to hold his hand over the rope at a little distance. Rhys has kept the intensity of the spell low, just for demonstration. It wouldn't really be painful.

***

Holding his hand out over the rope a tiny spark jumps from it to Eskel and it zaps him. Nothing terrible, like rolling around in furs and then accidentally touching metal. Only it keeps going. Eskel laughs and pulls his hand away. Rhys will _love_ this, and Eskel already knows he will love giving it to him.

“So I drink the spell? Tha’s interestin’. Kinda like you lendin’ it to me to play with. An’ I do intend to play with you with this.” Eskel has so many ideas now and he is anxious to start. 

Without waiting for Rhys to get up or picking up the rope, Eskel gives a hard shove to his shoulder rolling Rhys right over onto his back on the living room floor. With a few quick moves Eskel catches Rhys’ wrists and brings them above his head, swinging a leg over Rhys’ hips to settle there.

Eskel’s hips roll over Rhys’ when he dips forward kissing the side of Rhys’ neck. “You give me the best gifts.” He wants to take Rhys to the bedroom _now_. Strip him naked and tie him up.

***

Rhys goes soft in Eskel's hold, lets himself be held down and does his best to look inviting. Watching Eskel from under his lashes, he smiles and turns his head to offer up more of his neck. 

Eskel is downright impatient, and that's a rare thing to see. It's something to relish, and Rhys loves that he can have that kind of effect. 

"Do you want to try it out right now? Then I suggest you drink the potion first and experiment for a minute, to get a feel for it. It shouldn't be that different from the orgasm spell. And I cast the spell in the potion so low that you can't accidentally hurt me." 

Canting his hips up, Rhys presses himself against Eskel. "We should also make sure I didn't mess up the potion. There's a small chance it didn't work, and I can't tell until it gets activated."

***

“Mmm.” Eskel hums, kissing the stretch of neck that Rhys has bared to him. “But I can hurt you as much as you want to be hurt.” He bites into Rhys’ neck, teeth worrying at the skin he traps between them but not breaking it. A dark bruise will surface there later, Eskel knows, and the thought of that heats his face. The warmth spreads down his neck to his chest and he works hard to slow himself down. Patience.

“Alright.” Breathing slowly onto Rhys’ neck Eskel gives it one last quick kiss. Pushes up and hops to his feet, hand held out to Rhys. “C’mon. Let’s try this out then.”

Pulling Rhys to his feet, Eskel spins him around and slaps his ass. “Bedroom, now, but keep your clothes on.” Eskel watches Rhys for a moment as he goes, then turns his attention to his new toys.

First Eskel picks the rope on the floor up, then gathers the others and takes the potion from the box. Silently he pads down the hall to the bedroom and enters to find Rhys sitting on the bed in a perfect pose. Ass on his heels, hands on his thighs, head bowed, Rhys is waiting in the center of the bed for Eskel. As Eskel has ordered, Rhys is still dressed and Eskel already looks forward to taking Rhys' clothes off himself for once.

The ropes Eskel sets on the end corner of the bed; the glass bottle that holds the potion he tucks into the pocket of his leather pants. Standing at the foot of the bed Eskel makes a show of taking off his shirt. Toes off his socks, bending down slowly to pick them up. It gives Rhys a good view of his back if he dares to look up and Eskel knows it. He folds his shirt up and sets it on the dresser.

Eskel takes the tiny bottle of viscous yellow fluid out of his pocket and unscrews the cap. Brings it to his nose, and it smells _awful_ but he doesn’t comment, he’s drank a hundred worse things in his life. Like the burn of ozone, the sweet of sugar, and dandelions.

Downing it all in one go, Eskel finds that the taste is not as terrible as the smell. It’s a little syrupy, coating his mouth in a pleasantly sweet taste. The notes of dandelion lack the bitterness that normally comes with the stewed greens he’s used to. And once it's down the ozone smell has no taste at all. It does, however, make him tingle from head to toe, a small surge of power washing over him.

The feeling is not at all unlike calling forth a Quen and letting it sit over his body. Holding his hand up, finger and thumb pinched together, Eskel slowly moves them apart, concentrating on the tingle and the thought of a spark. A large smirk covers one side of his face when a tiny jolt of electricity jumps from his thumb to his finger.

The smirk never leaves Eskel’s face as he gets on the bed, facing Rhys. Walking on his knees up close, he tips Rhys’ chin up with a hand until Rhys is looking him in the eye. Runs a hand down the side of Rhys’ neck, over his t-shirt, then under the bottom hem of it, pushing it up. Eskel is sure Rhys can feel the tingle of his hands just from the way his breath speeds up.

***

Rhys cannot tell if it's just his nerves or if Eskel has activated the spell, the prickling on his skin so gentle it's almost not there. Eskel has both hands under Rhys' shirt now, exploring and caressing. Even with his chin no linger held up, Rhys knows better than to look away. 

Fingers pinch his nipples and Rhys winces. Pulling him forward into a kiss, Eskel lets go and a tiny shock hits Rhys, hardening his nipples immediately. He moans into the kiss and squirms, pants already growing tight.

There's no hurry in Eskel's touch and he takes his time. Tracing Rhys' tattoos just by touch, scratching lightly down his sides and up his back. Finally, Eskel pulls up Rhys' shirt and for a moment, shackles his arms above his head with it. Rhys is only let go after another kiss and a firm groping of his crotch. It's all he can do not to grind himself against Eskel's palm.

Shoving Rhys over on his back, Eskel continues to undress him, in the same leisurely manner. By the time Rhys is down to his boxers, he's squirming on the mattress. The tingle of Eskel's hands grows almost unbearably soft when he runs his palms over Rhys' thighs. He pulls down the boxers and Rhys struggles to keep still.

A finger traces up Rhys' cock and he tenses up, expecting pain at any second. It doesn't come. It doesn't come either when Eskel fondles his balls, bending down to kiss his way up Rhys' neck to his lips while he does it.

***

The way Rhys tightens up expecting something pleases Eskel. This is fun. Something new and yet very much the same as what he loves to do. Rhys wants a little more pain in bed and this, this, will allow Eskel to give it, easily, and well within the limits of what he himself is comfortable doling out. 

Eskel runs his hands up and around Rhys’ ribs, lifts them away just slightly and lets a shock jolt Rhys’ side. Rewarded with a moan into his mouth, Eskel grins. Sitting back on his haunches, Eskel orders Rhys to sit up. “Up, on your ass. Feet an’ knees together, hug your thighs.” Melitile, he wants to do a lot to Rhys— right now— and his own lack of patience is a little irksome in his mind. 

Rhys follows Eskel’ commands beautifully, always so soft and compliant for him. Eskel rewards him with a kiss to one ear and a tender caress to the other one. Fingers tracing the very tip with a tingle but nothing more.

Starting with a red rope, Eskel uncoils it completely. Places it at the middle of it at the back of Rhys’ ankles above his achilles tendon and brings the ends around the front. Crossing over he slips each one around the opposite pinky toe and returns it behind Rhys’ ankles. The effect is an X over his feet from his ankles to his toes.

Eskel crosses the ropes behind Rhys’ ankles and does it again, and again. Works in from Rhys’ pinky toes to his big toes, creating a fan of criss-crossed ropes. Each toe has a rope slipped between it, spreading them apart just a tiny bit. The remaining rope is woven up and wound around Rhys’ lower calves in an X there before Eskel ties it off.

Next Eskel chooses the two black ropes, unspooling each he folds them in half and attached one to the end of the other with a square knot, making a single longer black rope to work with. It gets wrapped around Rhys’ thighs. The ends run through the bight, Eskel secures them, and then a new loop starts a few inches further down Rhys’ thighs. In the end, three neat rows of black rope bind his thighs tightly together, and his cock twitches and bobs against his abdomen.

Lastly, Eskel takes the remaining red rope and ties Rhys’ hands. Palms pressed together and fingers splayed, Eskel wraps the halved rope around Rhys’ wrists and runs the tail through it. Draws it up between his wrists and around the outside. Over the back of one hand in between his pinky fingers and across the back of the other hand. Another loop and the same wrap only in between his forefinger, and again with his ring. The excess Eskel brings down and secures to the thigh binder he's made.

Rhys watches him carefully, rapid breaths rushing along in and out of his chest. Smiling, Eskel pets from Rhys' hip to his thigh. When his hands hit the rope, he lets the spell flow. Harder this time, shocking Rhys’ legs and traveling up into his hands. There is a sharp inhale and he sees Rhys clench at the startling bite of the electricity. 

Eskel lets his hands roam further down, touches Rhys calves and the ropes there. The spell flows into them, a spark in his mind. Toes curling in anticipation Rhys holds his breath, but Eskel only lets out a tiny trickle of energy here, smirking with satisfaction.

***

The light prickle of current is pleasant, in a strange way. A little like getting a tattoo, the same mix of pain and euphoria. Unlike a tattoo, this holds the promise of getting suddenly so much more painful without any warning and it keeps Rhys from fully relaxing into it.

Remembering to breathe, he relaxes his muscles. Lets the ropes hold him and starts to let go of the tension. It's hard and and he can't help focusing on the smallest move Eskel makes. Sparks prick at his skin, and the shocks make his muscles bunch against his will. 

Rhys turns his head to the side, closes his eyes. It's a pain that settles deep under his skin, a soreness in his muscles. Each new shock is silvery bright, a lightning across the cool moss green. Then it runs apart like quicksilver, sinking into the ground between the moss. And there it stays.

Between each shock, there are long pauses of the gentle trickle, soothing in contrast. More like spring rain than the lighting of the shocks. Rhys raises his face into the rain, welcoming it. He's grateful for the chance to recover from the bite of the shocks.

***

It’s lovely to see Rhys melt into the pain. Bit by bit letting go and softening. Eskel rocks Rhys onto his back, his knees remain bent towards his chest, held there by his bound hands. Eskel crawls up the side of the bed, opening the drawer on the bedside table to grab the lube. On his haunches below Rhys once more, Eskel coats a finger and traces it lightly up the exposed valley of Rhys’ ass.

Eskel is careful to keep the spell almost extinguished as he circles around Rhys’ rim. Still it clenches nervously under his finger until he sinks it in. With a loud unabashed moan Rhys’s body grips him tight. Working gently, Eskel pumps his finger back and forth until he’s hilted to the knuckle into Rhys’ ass, then he adds a second. When both are sunk deep inside, Eskel swipes the pads of his fingers lightly over Rhys’ prostrate at the same time as he takes hold of Rhys’ thighs with his other hand.

The spell rolls out of him and into the ropes around Rhys’ legs, a deep jolt that forces Rhys to clamp down hard on his fingers, pushing his own body down, grinding his prostate against Eskel’s fingers. When Eskel takes his hand away from the ropes he leans in and kisses the sole of Rhys’ foot.

“Greedy aren’t you?” Cupping the front of Rhys’ feet over the rope webbing there Eskel lets a sharp shock out to hear Rhys growl through his teeth. It’s gone as quick as it came and Eskel’s gone back to pumping his fingers in and out of Rhys’ ass. Stretching him and stroking his insides all at once. “Don’ worry, I’ll put my cock in here, eventually.”

***

Eskel's fingers in his ass destroy any equilibrium Rhys may have had found. It's just too much between pleasure and pain, and all those different kinds of pain.

So he gives up trying and just lets himself drift, pulled this way and that way in the current between Eskel's hands pleasuring and torturing him. He rolls his hips as best as he can, tries to match Eskel's rhythm. More shocks tear through him, from his thighs, biting into his hands and feet.

There is one thing Rhys craves and waits for, but it's not coming. So he begs.

"Please, touch my cock? Let me have pain there - please?" The mere thought of Eskel sending more than the merest trickle of current through his cock makes Rhys tense up and clamp down on Eskel's fingers. He knows how badly this will hurt, especially when Eskel decides to play with his balls as well. But Rhys wants it, wants the pain to pull him under and drown him.

***

Eskel had already been imagining tying Rhys' cock and balls up with these new ropes and letting the pain bring all new sensations there. Now that Rhys is literally begging for more, the idea is like fire in Eskel's mind, raging out of control. It's all he can think about, how much he wants to see Rhys' face when he does it.

"Yeah?" It's part growl, part promise, and barely qualifies as a question. Fuck, Eskel sounds completely wanton even to himself, he can't think how he must sound to Rhys, drifting through his pain.

"What made you think I wasn' gonna?" With a last teasing sweep along Rhys' prostate that makes him shudder and moan Eskel draws out. Grabs Rhys' hands and pulls him back up to sitting. 

Hair scattered and eyes glassy Rhys looks gorgeous. Eskel has to kiss him. Hand burying itself in that messed up braid Eskel isn't exactly gentle but neither is he overly rough. It's just that he has a hard time holding back how much he _wants_ Rhys, in so many ways.

Eskel hasn't released Rhys' mouth when he slips his other hand in between Rhys' thighs and stomach. Stroking Rhys' cock, Eskel finds it hard. He keeps his touch a simple tingle, making Rhys wait for what Eskel knows he wants. 

When Rhys whines and wiggles, Eskel squeezes the tip of his cock, and swallows the resulting groan. "You can wait." Finally separating himself from Rhys, Eskel moves around behind him. Unable to handle the tightness of his own pants anymore Eskel gives in and frees himself. Folding them, he sets them on the floor.

Eskel kneels behind Rhys, spreading his knees on either side of Rhys. It lets him rub his cock up against Rhys' back and he takes advantage of it for a while. Teases himself until he's leaking on Rhys' skin while mouthing this shoulder.

***

Rhys lets Eskel take some of his weight, leans against him and puts his head back on Eskel's shoulder. He is pleased that Eskel has already undressed - he is rarely so impatient, never gives in easily to what he wants. But this very clearly pushes all his buttons.

With Eskel's cock grinding against him, Rhys gives a soft moan. It thrills him to have Eskel use him like that. For Eskel to be so aroused he needs to tease himself like that. But Rhys can't help but whine softly after a while, his own cock neglected. The painful squeeze to it has only served to excited Rhys more.

Reaching around, Eskel starts to loosen the ropes that hold Rhys' hands. Rhys hopes he knows what Eskel is planning and eager anticipation runs through him in a tingle not unlike the current from Eskel's hands. 

"Please-" It's just a low murmur, with Rhys pressing his face into Eskel's neck. But he knows Eskel will hear him perfectly.

***

“Mmm.” Eskel murmurs to Rhys’ skin. “I’ll give you what you need.” The rope runs through Eskel’s hands in front of Rhys as he checks it over and clears the tangles. Makes sure it’s folded perfectly in half again.

Placing the bight of the rope on Rhys’ cock a few finger widths above the base Eskel wraps it around and puts the tails through. Reverses it back and makes a tiny gauntlet three rope spans down to the base of Rhys’ cock. The thick rope spine stands out proudly, even if Rhys were to wilt it would keep him half hard as tight as it is.

At the base Eskel draws the rope straight down, fingering Rhys’ balls until they settle into the sides of his sack. Eskel hasn’t put any real bite into the spell leaking out of his hands yet, but the pleasant trickle is ever present. Teasing Rhys of what is to come. Hooking his finger in the rope behind Rhys’ balls, Eskel holds it there while he wraps the first loop around the top of them, so he can slip the tails into it and reverse it. Then he wraps tight, just enough to force Rhys’ balls unwillingly down and away from his body, into the bottom of his sack until they bulge delightfully taught. Not enough to cause permanent harm though.

Tying the rope off Eskel trails his new leash around Rhys’ hip, the ends still wound once around his hand. “‘S that what you wanted? Hmm? Your cock an’ balls all tied up an’ _mine_?” Punctuating the word, Eskel reaches around with his other hand and gives a harsh flick to one of Rhys’ balls, painfully exposed to the torture and unable to retreat. 

Eskel’s hand wanders down to Rhys’ thighs and touches the ropes still binding them together. A zap of energy rolls through them as Eskel ruts up Rhys’ back hot and slick. “Or did you want this?” With a quick tug on the leash Eskel sends a jolt of fiery pain into it, knowing it will travel right to Rhys’ most sensitive places.

***

Rhys arches back into Eskel, he can't help it. The pain is sudden and fierce and takes his breath away. It's everything he wanted and more. 

His balls pull up hard against the ropes, and his cock jerks in its bindings. With a choked gasp Rhys digs his fingers into the sheets and into Eskel's arm, only relaxing gradually as the pain sinks warm into his muscles. 

The way Eskel holds the ropes, every shock to Rhys' cock zaps his hips and the sensitive skin on his groin along the way. Rhys give a quiet moan as he tries to soften his limbs. He has only just made it when Eskel shocks him again, and again. There's not even time for Rhys to breathe or make any noise.

When Eskel stops, Rhys slumps in his arms, muscles quivering all over his body. For a moment, he can't find the strength, and the control over his limbs, to sit. He's only held by Eskel and by the ropes keeping his legs together. Pulling a long breath through his nose, Rhys hides against Eskel's neck for a moment.

"More." Rhys can barely hold himself upright again, but he already misses the numbness and sudden agony of the shocks.

***

Eskel’s lips trek across Rhys’ forehead in small steps. The beating of Rhys’ heart is loud in his ears and he loves it. The way Rhys takes this for him and asks for what he wants again. 

More. The word sings to Eskel’s greedy desire for control. He brings his hand forward and dangles the rope over Rhys’ groin. Winds it up the shaft of Rhys’ cock higher, past the gauntlet he’s sheathed Rhys in and lays it right over the head. Drapes it along the crook of Rhys’ hip again and stares into Rhys’ eyes.

“More?” In return Eskel gets only a whimper and a desperately needy nod. The first hard shock will probably have Rhys knocking it off of the head of his cock with the way he bucks but Eskel doesn’t care, it will stay wrapped up to the top of Rhys cock.

Concentrating on the flow of energy Eskel lets out a long stream of electricity and Rhys seizes up in his arms. Hips arched up in the air unable to escape the pain he asked for. Eskel stops the flow to a tiny tingle and then lets it out again, three quick bursts shocking Rhys hard. When he is done Rhys is panting, muscles tense, struggling to loosen them.

“Wanna feel you milk my cock like that. So tight and greedy for it.” Eskel searches the bed for the lube. Strokes his cock and pushes Rhys until he catches himself weakly on his hands. Spreading Rhys’ cheeks Eskel lines himself up and sinks in, sliding back and burying himself all the way. Hand still on the leash Eskel lets out a little bit of current.

***

Rhys lets himself be pushed forward on his elbows and lays his head down on his arms with a sigh as Eskel's cock spreads him wide. He savors the pause, and Eskel filling him up.

The moment the current comes back Rhys tenses up. His back bent like a bow, hands grasping at the sheets, ass clenching around Eskel. It's just a mild tingle, and Rhys relaxes into it. A slow, languid thrust into him helps and Rhys breathes in the same rhythm.

A stronger shock makes him yelp and jerk. His balls are painfully tight, his cock drips precum, all bound by the ropes and at Eskel's mercy in more ways than one. 

Eskel quickens his pace, and shocks Rhys again. The way Rhys is bent over, and with only slight tension to the leash in Eskel's hand, his cock rubs up against his stomach and with every shock, sparks bite into the skin there. It leaves slowly fading painful lines all over his skin, and a deep ache in his muscles.

***

Planting his hands on either side of Rhys’ on the bed, Eskel gives a tug pulling the leash tight. “You’re all mine.” Crouching over the top of Rhys, Eskel rolls his hips in the perfect rhythm. The one Eskel knows he can stand to keep up for a while, the one that drags the pleasure out of him, and makes Rhys moan.

Eskel closes his mouth on Rhys’ shoulder, teeth teasing the flesh there. Electricity surges down the rope and into Rhys’ cock and balls. Eskel groans, the vibrations silenced by Rhys’ skin, when Rhys’ body squeezes him like a vice. The grip is too perfect to move through and it breaks Eskel’s rhythm for a moment.

With an arm around Rhys’ waist Eskel hauls him up. Kneeling he seats Rhys in his lap, impaled in his cock. Rhys is already tight with the way his legs are bound and every shock Eskel sends through the leash only amplifies it. One hand wanders up leaving a tingling trail to Rhys’ nipple. With a pinch Eskel draws it between his thumb and finger, sends a shock right into it.

Dropping his hand down to stroke the upper part of Rhys shaft not wrapped in rope, Eskel teases it. Rubs his fingers in the precum there, leaking from the swollen head. It’s hot and red. Lifting his fingers to his mouth, Eskel tastes Rhys and hums, nosing into his hair by his ear.

“Do you wanna come for me?” Eskel begins untying Rhys’ cock, a smirk curling his lips at the thought that the best pain for Rhys is almost here.

***

Rhys is heavy in Eskel's embrace, caught between pleasure and pain. Thoughts and movements are sluggish alike, slowed down to a crawl by the constant barrage on his senses. 

With his legs tied Rhys has no real leverage to move himself and he is trapped. Eskel's cock sits deep inside of him, hard and pulsing, and it draws a loud moan from Rhys. 

Eskel has asked him a question, and Rhys tries to figure out what it was, distracted by Eskel's hands on his cock. He hurries to answer before Eskel is finished and the pain Rhys knows is coming will take away his words.

"Please, make me come." Head lolling back against Eskel's shoulder, Rhys braces himself, flinching when Eskel nudges his balls, tight and sensitive in their bindings. He breathes quickly, trapped between dreading the pain and needing to come, and to let Eskel take what he wants.

***

Eskel runs a thumb over the skin of Rhys' balls, forced tight and now a swollen lovely shade of dark blush. It's smooth under his fingers. Rhys is meticulous in shaving, and Eskel's touch makes him whimper in anticipation.

The ropes unwind quickly with Eskel's skilled hands and the breath Rhys has sucked in comes flooding out in a pained cry. Leaving the rope on Rhys' cock for a moment, Eskel breathes deep the scent of Rhys' excitement mixed with the tears gathering in his eyes. Closes his own eyes and lets the smell inundate him as he rolls Rhys' balls in his fingers.

Rhys' body is shaking and his hole is clenching around Eskel in a broken rhythm that has Eskel counting the beats of his heart, working hard not to spill. "Fuck you're lovely like this."

Eyes open again, Eskel returns to the task of loosening the gauntlet that hugs Rhys cock. When it's off he sets the rope aside and strokes Rhys. One arm wraps under Rhys' arms around his chest, holds him up so Eskel can thrust up into him. The other hand lets out enough electricity that Eskel's strokes are both pleasure and pain.

***

Eskel's touch pulls his orgasm from Rhys in the middle of all the pain. Clutching hard at Eskel's arms, Rhys writhes and shudders, hard enough that Eskel has to tighten his hold.

The ache in his balls spreads, into his cock and his groin, like water rushing from a broken dam. It's urged on by the shocks from Eskel's hand, biting into Rhys' shaft and torturing the head of his cock every time Eskel runs his fingers over it, squeezing it. 

The only thing keeping it from overflowing and drowning Rhys is the pleasure, stemming the tide of all that agony. He clings to it, wraps his mind around it and before he knows it, he is swept away with it. Leaving his body in Eskel's care, Rhys doesn't try to hold on and falls into their auras, golden sun-dappled leaves under a burning sky, the warm taste of honey on his tongue. There are distant lighting flashes and the far off smell of ozone, but here, the storm won't reach him.

***

“Mmm, tha’s it. Give it to me. All of it. _Everythin’_.” Eskel croons in Rhys’ ear. Medallion vibrating between his chest and Rhys’ back as Rhys falls into the comfort of astral sight. “So good for me.” Eskel doesn’t stop, canting his hips up, cock spreading Rhys open, long deep thrusts carrying him right through his orgasm to the other side.

Rhys is limp in Eskel’s arms. Drifting blindly with the pain and the pleasure, his cum slicking Eskel’s hand as it works lightly over Rhys’ cock still, making him shudder. It’s not long before Eskel follows Rhys over, rushing along the swift river and plunging over the waterfall into a deep pool of clear pleasure.

It swallows Eskel whole and he lets the spell go entirely, slipping free of his grasp until it dissipates completely in the air with a pop and a fizzle. Eskel pulls Rhys backward, over on top of his chest, straightening out his legs and taking Rhys’ with him. One arm still wrapped around Rhys’ chest and the other making a bar over his hips, Eskel empties himself into Rhys with a gentle sigh.

Rolling both of them to their sides, Eskel kisses Rhys’s shoulder, licks up to his ear. “Thank you. You were beautiful. How’re you feelin’?” Eskel feels like he imagines a Skelliger feels arriving in Valhalla.

***

"Mmhmm." Rhys has no words yet. He wriggles so he can turn around and nestle into Eskel, hide his face. It's not that easy with his legs still bound, but he has the use of his arms and that's enough.

In the end, he has both arms around Eskel, hands buried in his hair. His balls still ache, as do his muscles, and he knows he will get to enjoy that for the rest of the day and tomorrow, at the least. But it's a pleasant ache, one he cherishes. 

"I'm good. Tired. But that was wonderful, and I love that you enjoy your new toys so much." Rhys giggled softly. "I can make you a couple more of those spells, if you want. So you can take some home. They won't last forever, but long enough."

Leaning back and letting Eskel hold him and keep him from falling over on his back, Rhys looked at him. He took a moment to study Eskel's expression - eyes half closed, a slight smile turning his face soft, the flush of arousal only just fading. 

"Seeing you all fucked out like that, I like it." Rhys grinned and kissed Eskel deeply.

***

A snort escapes Eskel’s lips as they turn up further into a full smile. “‘M fucked out? Think tha’s you-” Sleepily Eskel raises a hand to undo Rhys’ hair completely. It’s already a mess, falling out of the braid, and he wants to see it, touch it. Put his hand in it and pull Rhys back for another kiss. “-an’ yeah, I’d take a few spells. Gimme a moment.”

Eskel fights against the lethargy that wants to take him under so badly. Forces himself to roll away from Rhys, as much as he doesn’t want too. Arm reaching blindly over the edge of the bed, Eskel pulls his pants up and takes his commlink out. He _knows_ there is a way to do this; he has seen Rhys do it, in fact. 

Rolling back, Eskel pulls Rhys back to him, enjoying the way he snuggles right back in. With the comm held behind Rhys’ head Eskel stares at the tiny screen. He is concentrating hard on finding the right things to tap. Apartment Control> Bathroom> Tub>ON. Water Temp? Melitele - fuckin’ hot, Eskel doesn’t know how hot is hot. A snicker makes it way to his ears and he feels Rhys shaking with poorly suppressed mirth in his arms.

***

Rhys pushes himself up on an elbow, squirms his bound legs to get purchase on the bed. With a kiss to Eskel's temple, he peeks at the commlink display.

"You're almost there. You can go with a temperature, but we have set preferences, too. Look," he waits for a nod of permission and then shows Eskel where to find them. 

"Here's mine, and that's Duncan's - he likes his water hotter than I do. Next time you run a bath for yourself, you can tell the tub to remember it here." Rhys lets himself fall back into Eskel's arms, and in the bathroom the water rushes into the tub.

With a satisfied nod, Eskel settles down again. They lie for a bit, petting each other and enjoying each other's warmth, before Eskel starts to untie Rhys' legs. Rhys stretches luxuriously and with a groan, sits up and wraps his hair into a messy bun. He readily holds onto Eskel as he gets picked up and carried next door.

Getting carefully lowered into the tub, Rhys gives a sigh, and a hiss when it reaches his balls. But the warmth creeps into his muscles and soothes the ache there. He turns sideways and leans into Eskel again, closes his eyes with one hand to Eskel's chest.

"You enjoyed that, being able to torture me with just a touch." It's not a question, and Rhys turns his face into Eskel's neck to give him a soft bite.

***

Enjoying the heat of the water as it soaks into his muscles and warms his bones, Eskel smiles. “I did. I enjoy playin’ with fire on your cock too. This shouldn’ have been surprisin’. What I love the most though,” Eskel turns to kiss Rhys’ forehead and pull him tight, “is the way you enjoy me doin’ it, asking for more. That really gets to me.”

“For the record that really was one of the best presents I’ve ever been given, the toys, an’ your reaction to them.” Eskel scoops water up Rhys’ chest in his hand, letting it fall there. He tips Rhys forward and maneuvers himself behind, bringing Rhys back against his chest.

The soaps in London always smell so clean to Eskel and he appreciates it. And yet he wants to cover Rhys in the smell of _his_ soap, bourbon and juniper. But Eskel pushed the desire aside, it’s just possessiveness and he already knows Rhys is his right now. Clicking the soap open Eskel squirts it in his hand and proceeds to lather Rhys’ chest and arms.

Gentle squeezes to Rhys’ muscles earn Eskel soft moans and he nuzzles at Rhys’ neck in return. Delves his hands underwater to do the same to Rhys’ thighs where the ropes held him. Rhys draws his knees up letting Eskel get to his calves and Eskel can feel the muscles move under his hands when Rhys wiggles his toes.

One hand comes up to cup Rhys’ balls and the other to stroke his limp cock. It is a gentle parody of their earlier play and Eskel is careful with his touch, cleaning everything away. Eskel wraps an arm around Rhys’ waist and lets his hand travel further- behind and between- to clean his own come from Rhys as well.

Scooting down in the tub, Eskel takes Rhys with him until only their heads and shoulders are above water, Rhys cradled between Eskel’s thighs. The water washes away and traces of soap and Eskel helps it lap up what’s left on Rhys’ shoulders. Then he is content. To lie in the tub, holding Rhys, the water moving only with their combined breaths.


End file.
